Quick Stop
by SilverInspiration
Summary: It was just a quick stop at the store, but it proved to be much more trouble than Frank or Nancy could have ever predicted.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So I've decided to post this story and see what people think of it. Nancy/Frank isn't my favorite pairing, but I really wanted to write a series of stories focusing on them. This is a Frank-centric story...sort of a counterbalance of my other story :) I do hope you enjoy it and any form of critique and comments are welcome!

This story is not connected to "Fast Forward" in any way. But I will still be posting for that story. I just wanted to change it up a bit and start this story too.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them, and I'm not making a profit off of this in any way. But I promise to put 'em back when I'm done.

Background Info: In this "character universe" Frank, Joe, Nancy, George, and Tony (in their early twenties) all work for the Bayport Police Department under Lieutenant Con Riley and Chief Collig. Frank just got promoted from lab tech to Nancy's detective partner. (FYI: these stories might have a CSI feel to 'em. I can't help it, I'm a bit of a junkie). Happy reading...

* * *

**One Quick Stop**

The sun was just setting as the small car pulled in front of the apartment buildings. She didn't have to wait long; he was standing outside, wearing jeans and a short sleeve shirt, as well as sunglasses, even though the need wasn't apparent. He climbed in quickly, shutting the door behind him, removing the glasses as he did so.

"Thanks for the ride Nancy, you helped out big time," Frank told her as she backed the car up.

She nodded, "Not a problem, you're on the way, so it wasn't a biggie."

Frank shrugged, "If the auto shop got things done when they said they would, I wouldn't have this problem."

Nancy could only laugh, "Frank," she said, actually turning to him, "If you got a car that worked, you wouldn't have this problem either."

He nodded thoughtfully, rubbing his chin, "True, but where would the adventure be?"

Nancy rolled her eyes, glancing over her shoulder as she pulled back into traffic. "Is it okay if we make a quick stop?" she asked, coming to a stop light.

"Well, you are the one driving," Frank reminded her, "But our shift does start in a few," he stated, tapping the clock on the radio.

"It won't be long," Nancy glanced at the time, "Need to pick up some tape for Con, forgot to get it last night. Besides that, there's no water bottles left at the lab, Tony stole them all."

Frank laughed, "Yeah, I remember that."

"You should," Nancy told him, gripping the steering wheel. "You're the one who provoked him into eating all those packets of hot sauce."

Frank was laughing hard now, wiping away the tears around his eyes, "It was great, wasn't it? I didn't think it was possible for someone to turn beet red from eating hot sauce."

"Yeah," Nancy let out a chuckle, "just remember to watch your back."

She told him this as they pulled into the parking lot of a small convenience store. They were the only ones there besides the store owner, a young Chinese women, who looked up from cleaning the counters as they came in.

"So sorry," she told them, obvious that English wasn't her best of languages, "Closing time."

She pointed to the sign on the door, that hadn't quite made it to the close position, even though it was five past. Frank was already turning to go, but Nancy grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"We won't be long," she told her, smiling. This was the last store between here and the station, and doubling back meant being late. Something she was not willing to do.

The owner seemed unsure at first, biting her lip as she held the cloth in her hands. Finally she nodded, although doubt still showed in her eyes. She was tired, she wanted to go home, but she figured a few more minutes while she cleaned couldn't hurt.

"Hurry," she urged them, going back to washing.

Nancy made her way around the isles, snatching first the tape, then going back to the freezer compartments. Reaching to grab a single water bottle, she changed her mind, picking up a case instead, only to stop again to select a different brand. It was on odd habit on her part, she always had to have water with her on cases.

She turned to Frank, nearly laughing at the look he was giving her. It was a cross between amusement and irritation. "You ready?"

Frank shrugged, his hands were in his pocket. "Sure, unless you want that water instead, it has bubbles on the outside."

She gave him an equal stare, "I don't want bubbles in my water," she told him plainly.

"No bubbles," he said nodding, "got it, you want bunnies, not bubbles."

"I like this kind of water" Nancy told him, getting defensive, "besides, the bunnies are cute."

Frank only rolled his eyes as he turned the corner, Nancy following shortly after. It was then that she heard it. Gunfire. She had heard gunfire before, but this was different, it was close, much closer than she had ever heard gunfire before.

She reached almost automatically for her gun, dropping the water in the process. She was startled to find it missing, only to curse herself a moment later. Of course it wasn't there; it was back at the station, in her locker. She didn't carry it with her outside of work, there wasn't a need to.

Nancy wasn't sure when the change occurred; one minute she was standing, debating on what she should do. The next, she was on her hands and knees, her head throbbed as the floor of the convenience store seemed to sway, twisting and falling before her eyes.

She thought she heard a scream, a slight struggle; then more gunshots ripped through the air, and it was quiet again.

Stand…she had to stand, had to get out of this place, had to call for help. Even as she struggled to her feet her mind screamed at her to move. But she wasn't in control.

"I said stay down," a voice roared at her from behind.

Nancy tried to process the information, wondering if she should listen to the warning, or try something else.

"You best stay down," the voice hissed again, he was standing behind her. She could tell by the direction his voice came from. "If you try anything, your boyfriend gets it," he warned again.

Nancy was still on her hands and knees, staring at a small pool of blood on the floor that she could only assume that was hers. _Boyfriend?_ She though solemnly, _what boyfriend?_

It was only then that she recognized who they were talking about, and a warning screamed in her mind. Frank. What had they done to him? She risked raising her eyes just a little, searching the floor in front of her. She saw no signs of him, he must be around on the other side.

"Down on the floor," the man behind her warned; she could hear him cocking a gun. It sounded like a rifle. She closed her eyes, laughing inwardly with irony. She was way too overworked.

"I said down!" the man yelled now, he was getting to the end of his rope. Still shaking, Nancy gently lowered herself to the floor, her head coming to rest in her own blood. She kept her hands out in front of her, at the sides of her head, in position for quick action if opportunity presented itself.

"Good girl," her attacker appraised her, raising Nancy's anger a notch. "Stitch, get that rope over here, we have another one."

Her eyes followed the pair of black boots that walked around the isle, until they passed out her line of site. She could hear the new man laughing, knew it was a man by the sound of his voice.

"Bagged ourselves a real trophy here," he nearly sung the phrase out. "With all the loot we have, we could go on a real honeymoon," he added, taking a hold of her hands, bringing them behind her back.

Nancy's first thoughts were to fight back. Giving in was the worse thing to do, she had to act now if there was ever a chance. That plus anger coursed through her veins. She was not a trophy, for anything or anyone. However, the simple warning that was given to her before held her still.

She couldn't risk Frank's life on her behalf. She had no way of knowing if Frank was even alive, and if he was, how badly he was hurt. Until then, she would have to play along with her captors.

She almost laughed as the second man yelped as he was smacked rather harshly. More than likely on the head, she thought.

"What was that for?" he wondered, his voice more pitiful now.

"We're here for the cash, nothing else. If you want to risk taking off with some slut, that's your deal. Don't try it on my time. Besides, these stores don't carry too much anyways, we'll have to hit a few more before we have enough."

Nancy was livid, as she struggled against the ropes that were firmly tied around her hands. It did little good and only caused her captors entertainment. They laughed as the second man, she gathered, began to tie her ankles together, restricting her movements even more.

"Come on Stitch, I'm sure she wants to see her boyfriend. They can spend their last moments together. We can even get pictures of them too, this store carries plenty of cameras."

Nancy felt sickened, as they drug her to her feet, and it wasn't from the harsh, sudden movement either. She silently cursed herself as they pushed her forward; her late night stop had cost both her and her co-worker dearly. Frank was her friend, and now because of her, they both would die, that was, if Frank wasn't dead already.

Turning the corner, she drew in a sharp gasp at what she saw, barely hearing the laughter of the two men behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to Chromde, frankette, supernatralsam, and cjloverforever for your reviews and anyone else who is reading! Hope you like this next chapter!

* * *

Joe Hardy let out a sigh, leaning forward, putting most of his weight on his elbows as he dropped his head into his hands. He glanced from the photos that were strewn over the surface of the table, to the clock that hung on the wall. Fifteen past eight, and since the clock was slow, that made it nearly twenty minutes. He shook his head, slightly amazed; they had some of the finest technology provided, and they couldn't even fix a clock. It had been slow for years now.

A tapping sound brought his attention back to the photos; he glanced over to find Tony watching him. "Focus man, we need to figure this out."

Joe only nodded as he leaned back in his chair, "I know, but Nancy and Frank should be here by now, and we're not figuring anything out."

Tony laughed, clasping his hands in front of his mouth, "Knowing Frank, he's probably trying to call someone for a ride because his car is a piece of junk, and knowing Nancy, she's probably the one who volunteered."

Joe laughed, "More than likely, that still doesn't explain why they are late."

"What's got you so wound up?" Tony wondered, picking up a photo, then another.

"Game's on tonight, in ten minutes. I didn't pay for that new cable company to sit here and miss all my shows," Joe argued, picking up his own photo.

"Yeah, well we can't leave until they get here, they're taking over the case for us, Con wants this one solved, so for now, focus, let's find something."

Joe only nodded, hiding his disappointment as he went back to examining the photos.

***

Nancy's cry of surprise turned into one of pain as she was shoved onto the floor, her knees grinding into the hard tiles. She lifted her head back up, ignoring the warnings that were given to her. Frank was flat on the floor, head to one side, a slim yet deep cut ran the length down the left side of his face, starting just under his hairline, crossing over his eye and ending on his cheekbone. He had been hit right in the face; the two men had to be coming in quickly, or already inside when Frank rounded the corner.

Blood had begun to pool out from under his stomach, staining the floor beneath him. Nancy tried to call out his name, tried to wake him up, but was cut off as the assailant grabbed her hair, forcing her head down.

"Stitch! I thought I told you to tie him up!" The first man cried.

The younger, lankier man ran over to him, allowing Nancy to see him for the first time, just out of the corner of her eyes. He was dressed in black, typical for a robber, and had face mask on. He couldn't have been much older than 20, barely over five feet tall, but it was hard to tell from her perspective.

"He was out Mando, he can't hurt no one," the man labeled Stitch complained.

"And what happens when he wakes up?" Mando snarled, twisting his hand in her hair, causing Nancy to wince with every word he said. She lifted her eyes again to see the younger man tying Frank's hands together, behind his back like hers, and then bound his feet with several feet of rope he was carrying.

"There, he's tied," Stitch complained, kicking Frank in the stomach for emphasis. There was no response from him, confirming that he was indeed unconscious. "Besides, it's not like we're going to be here that long."

"You never know," Mando told him, shoving Nancy face first to the ground, "Stay down," he warned her again, pressing the rifle against her back. She felt him move back, release his hold on her hair, and for a split moment, she thought about escaping. But only for a moment, as her eyes came to rest on Frank, then the thoughts were banished from her mind.

She tried calling his name, not risking raising her voice above a whisper, hoping that he would hear her then. But there was nothing more than his soft breathing, almost strained, in and out. He was still bleeding, fairly rapidly, something that worried her.

She lifted her eyes, looking for the two robbers. She couldn't see them, but she could hear them, they were digging through the cash register. Up closer, by the front doors, the store owner lay, eyes open slightly. She wasn't breathing. Nancy swallowed, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again.

She looked past the young woman, out into the darkness that had set around the store. How long had it been since they came in here? How long would it be before it ended? No, she couldn't think like that, they would get out of here, but how was the question.

First things first, she reminded herself, her attention returning back to Frank. The bleeding needed to stop. Nancy glanced back up, making sure her captors were still focused on the cash instead of them. Luckily they were; either they weren't very good criminals or they weren't very bright, but on either hand, she still needed to be careful.

She was conjuring up a plan when a sudden whirring noise filled the air. It was quiet at first, something she almost passed up until it got louder. Sirens; they had also caught the attention of the attackers.

"Cops" Stitch yelled, "someone ratted us out."

"We don't know that yet," Mando scolded him, coming around the corner. Nancy watched as he approached the doors, looking outside. Nancy prayed for them to stop, as they grew even louder, but they were moving to fast, and before she knew it, they were passing by, and growing quieter.

"You don't panic unless you need to," Mando said, turning back to look at Nancy, who was watching him. "Don't worry honey, we'll take good care of you."

Nancy only grimaced as she laid her head back down of the floor, facing towards Frank. Closing her eyes, she began to formulate a plan.

***

It was now nine, Joe and Tony were still looking over the photos, both of them agitated. Joe was missing the game, and Tony was late for a dinner date. Neither of them said anything, hadn't said anything for the past twenty minutes. The case was a confusing mess of nothing, or so it seemed. Joe had wanted to give up on it, but as high as priority as it was, he knew better than to even question Lieutenant Riley's reasoning.

"You find anything yet?" Tony finally asked, after nearly a half an hour of straining silence.

Joe only shrugged, grabbing up more photos. No, he hadn't found anything, he wasn't even really paying attention. He was too upset about Frank and Nancy being late; too tired to really even concentrate anymore. Both he and Tony had come in early, and now they would be staying late. He wasn't aware that he was drumming his fingers on the table until Tony brought his own hand down, stopping the motion.

"Don't," Tony pleaded, "I have a headache."

Joe only shook his head, but he did stop, turning back to the photos. It got him, how many times did an infant have to die before people learned. "Cars, swimming pools, backyards. Where will it be next?"

Tony only shrugged. "Sad, really is sad, there's not much that we can do."

"We can find the killer," Joe said, practically throwing the papers down on the table. "And we're not going to find it here."

Tony agreed silently. "Back to the car then?"

"I guess, re-check everything. Nothing's unsolvable, we just need that one piece of the puzzle, and everything will start to fit," Joe said, taking the lead out of the room. They ran into Riley on the way.

"You two still here?" he asked, somewhat surprised.

"Back up hasn't arrived to relieve us yet," Joe shrugged it off, walking past him.

"Nancy and Frank haven't come in yet?" Con wondered, turning to Tony who had stayed behind.

Tony shook his head, "If they're here, they got caught up in something else, forgot about us."

"Have you tried calling them?" Riley asked, stating the obvious.

Tony shook his head, taking off down the hall after Joe, "Haven't had the time."

***

They had been moved; Nancy watched as they drug Frank across the floor, propping him against the freezer doors. They had pulled her to her feet; Nancy had wrestled with them, her mind clearer now. It wouldn't be much longer now before the robbers would take off, and they had already made it clear that no one was coming out alive. Why they hadn't killed them off by now was a surprise.

Her struggles hadn't lasted long, as she was shoved into the glass next to Frank. Not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to stun her momentarily. It took all her strength just to keep her balance, sitting on her knees. Without the use of her hands, she felt helpless, a shiver running down her spine as her captors laughed at the way she swayed. One of them used his foot to push her over. She hadn't fought back then.

"Keep them out of sight for now, until we finish here," Mando told Stitch, as the two walked back towards the counter.

They hadn't known, but they had been more of a help than Nancy could ask for. She was sitting right next to Frank, right next to the wound that was still bleeding.

Turning a little to her left, she was able to bring her hands against his chest, tracing down towards his stomach. Feeling carefully she was able to locate the small wound; it felt like a gunshot, more than likely what it was, considering all the gunfire that was released before.

Forceful pressure, she reminded herself. Crossing her hands as best she could, she pressed against the wound, leaning all her weight against him. She couldn't tell if she was stopping the blood flow, or even slowing it, all she could do was hope. Hope and pray as the night went on.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you like this story, but after this chap you might be angry...I do not condone violence but...heh heh...happy reading!

* * *

Lieutenant Con Riley shut the door behind him as he entered his office. Placing the papers he held in his hand on top of the ever growing pile that was already on his desk, he picked up the phone, punching in the numbers to Nancy's cell phone. It wasn't unusual for her to be late like this, it had happened before, but normally she called ahead, warned him that she would be. He figured that maybe she had an appointment or something else planned, something she had told him about days or even weeks ago, and now it had just slipped his mind. He shouldn't be worried; he reminded himself that fact as the call finally went through.

"Hey Nancy," he started to say, but was surprised as the call was cut off. A steady tone buzzed in his ear and he frowned, hanging up and trying the number again. There was no answer that time, so instead he tried her home phone. After five rings it picked up.

"Nancy, it's Con, your cell phone's dead, and you're late," he started, only to realize how idiotic it sounded. "Just wondering if you were still at home, doesn't sound like it, see you when you get here then."

He hung up, shaking his head. Why had he called? Nancy was fine, he reassured himself, so why was he so worried. Then he remembered that Frank was also not here. Sighing he picked the phone up again, pausing to remember what his cell number was before punching it in.

There was no answer, and he didn't bother trying to call his house either. He had already made an idiot out of himself once, no need to do it twice. Still he felt worse than before he had made the calls. Maybe they were here, somewhere around the station, and had just forgotten that they were supposed to pick up on a case.

Though it could be possible, it wasn't very reasonable, he decided, grabbing the top few papers to sort through them. He would wait a little longer before trying to call again, maybe then Nancy's phone would be recharged enough to get a call through.

***

It was warm…that was all he knew. Too warm for his taste. The air felt sultry, it was hard to breathe. Not only that, it hurt to breathe. Frank blinked wearily a few times, allowing his eyes time to adjust to the bright lights that hung from the ceiling.

It was then he felt it, something beside him, something that was on him. Turning to his left he frowned slightly. "Nancy," he mumbled, still blinking.

"Frank," she answered back, turning to look over her shoulder. He hadn't the faintest idea why she had her back to him.

"What's going on?" he wondered, glancing around the store. Things were slowly coming back to him, he remembered where they were, but wasn't quite sure what happened.

"We uh, we have a situation," Nancy started to explain, still watching him, but was interrupted.

"Hey look Mando, boyfriend's awake."

Frank looked towards the counter as one man jumped over and the other walked around. It all came back to him then, what had happened. He had just gotten around the corner, moving to the side as a man walked past. The second man, he saw, had a gun. He was about to shout a warning, but never got the chance. The next thing he knew, was waking up.

"Isn't that sweet?" Mando asked, "Girlie's helping the boy."

Stitch laughed, "What are we going to do with them?"

An answer never came as a sharp ringing noise filled the air. Frank glanced towards the Nancy, the sound startling him. The two robbers also were surprised, only Nancy knew what it was the second it started. But it didn't take long for the others to figure it out either.

Nancy was already pulling the phone from her back pocket, releasing her hold from Frank's wound for the first time in over thirty minutes. She hadn't even checked the caller ID as she threw the phone open, but she was unable to get a single word out.

Stitch wrestled the phone out of her hands, smashing it into the ground, as Mando dragged Nancy to her feet. She let out a cry as her arms were twisted painfully behind her back, and she was unable to get her feet under her, simply because they were bound.

"Who you trying to call slut?" Mando yelled at her, throwing her down an aisle. She landed against the metal shelves, crying out as she made contact. Her breathing hitched as she slid to the floor, but it was obvious that he wasn't done with her yet.

"You think you're so smart don't you?" he was screaming now, one hand grasped her chin, forcing her up.

"Leave her alone!" Frank shouted, trying to draw their attention away. His breathing had sped up, he was putting more pressure on his chest; he winced with each one.

But it hadn't worked, and he watched in horror as the man holding Nancy threw her back down. He could only see her feet, but he got a pretty good idea what was going on.

Nancy tried her best to cover her face by turning her shoulder, and ducking her head into her chest. It did little to stop the heavy boot that came down on her, not once or twice, but several times in a row.

She couldn't hear what he was yelling anymore, nor could she hear Frank calling for her to answer, or his own cries of pain. She lost count of how many times she was hit, and was barely aware that he had stopped. She could taste blood, could feel it running down her cheek. It was the last thing she remembered.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! And don't worry, one more chapter and the others will get a clue. Thanks for reading guys!

* * *

The floor under her was cold, and wet. She had always hated being cold and wet. There was a time, when she was young, that she became lost, stuck outside in a violent windstorm. It wasn't until the morning that she had found her way home again, cold, wet and frightened. But that wasn't the only thing bothering her; her head was pounding. Right now, all she wanted to do was sleep, but there was that nagging voice, it wouldn't stop. Nancy groaned as something nudged her in the legs again.

"Stop kicking me," she mumbled, "I'll be up in a few."

She let out a sigh as she was kicked again, "Stop it," she muttered.

"Nancy," she could hear the person better now, even though she hadn't wanted to.

"Nancy, come on, get up. Please," the voice continued. _Funny_, she thought, _sounds like Frank._

"Nancy, come on baby, open your eyes for me. Let me see your eyes, come on, wake up girl."

Nancy frowned; _Did Frank just call her 'baby?'_ Warily she opened her eyes, trying to make out the blurry shapes around her.

She finally saw Frank smiling at her, and she couldn't help but smile back. "There you are," he said softly, smiling still. "You scared me there for a minute."

She only blinked, letting herself roll from her side to her back. "What happened?" she asked groggily, concentrating on breathing in and out at the current moment.

"Your phone went off," Frank told her gently, "They didn't take to it to well. Drug you back over here after you passed out."

She nodded, waiting a moment to find her voice. "How are you feeling?" she asked. He looked more bruised than the last time she saw him.

"I'm hanging in," he breathed heavily, leaning forward slightly. She could hear him hiss in pain as he began making his way towards her. "You?"

She almost laughed; would have laughed if she wasn't hurting so much. "I've seen better days," she muttered dryly.

Frank nodded as he laid his head on the floor next to hers. He was out of breath even though he hadn't gone more than two feet.

"Where?" she wondered. She hadn't any need to finish the question.

"Outside," Frank answered, "Smoking."

Nancy shook her head. "They murder, rob, hold us hostage, and follow indoor smoking ban laws?"

"Weird huh?" Frank told her, "I can't figure out if they're new at this, or just stupid and lucky."

Nancy did laugh this time, closing her eyes. "I'd bet on the latter of the two."

"Nancy," Frank started, raising his head a little. "We need help."

She nodded. "We've needed help ever since we started this job."

Frank laughed softly, rolling himself to his side, slowly pulling himself closer. "That's not what I meant. Let me see your hands, maybe I can get them untied." Frank had turned so that his back was to her side. It had been slow and painful, but he had managed it. He waited until Nancy had moved her hands out from under her.

The ropes were tight around her wrists, and it took a moment for Frank to find out where the knot began. It was also difficult, given that his own hands were tied. Nothing was said between the two as Frank worked on the ropes as quickly as he could. There was no telling how long their captors would be outside.

"There," Frank breathed finally, "I think I got it." He pulled the loops from around her wrists.

Nancy groaned softly as she flexed her fingers, trying to shake the numbing feeling out of her hands. She brought her arms in front of her, grabbing a shelf in order to help her sit up. She held fast as a wave of dizziness passed over her.

"After you untie your legs, leave the rope around them just enough to make it look like they're still tied. When I give the signal, run," Frank told her, taking time to catch his breath in between words.

"You're crazy if you think I'm leaving you here alone," Nancy told him, reaching down to loosen the ropes around her ankles.

"You'll have to," Frank said, slowly pulling himself back towards the freezer. "I can barely move. You'll to run for help. I can hold out here, but you'll have to hurry, and don't get caught."

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head the entire time, but she also knew that Frank was right.

"They've already pulled our wallets, and lifted your keys, so the vehicle is out of option," Frank continued, as Nancy moved over to him, catching him halfway in his slow crawling slide, working to untie the ropes that bound his own hands. He too groaned as she finally pulled the ropes off.

Nancy helped him back into a sitting position, moving to untie the ropes around his ankles as well as Frank rubbed his wrists, grimacing as he did so. She stopped her movements however as the doors were opened. Frank placed his hands behind his back, nodding at Nancy to do the same. He watched as she stuffed the loose ropes behind several bags of chips, beginning to protest as she pulled the ropes completely free of her legs, hiding those as well. Frank grew quiet as she swung her legs under her, before folding her hands behind her back in the same manner as Frank. Only moments before the two robbers walked in into their view.

"Looks like you doing okay," Mando said, smiling, hands in his pocket. He had removed his mask, allowing the two to see him for the first time. He had short brown hair, as well as a beard. Next to him, the younger man Stitch had also removed his mask. He had longer hair, looking as if he hadn't washed in weeks. He was clean shaven, at least a head shorter than his partner.

"Sorry about earlier," Mando continued, "we got off to a bad start. My patience isn't always the best."

Nancy stared continually at the floor, unwilling to answer. Across from her, Frank spoke up. "So, no hard feelings, when are you letting us go?"

Stitch and Mando laughed, "You can't be serious. You two are going no where. Seen too much," Mando said with a simple shrug. He held up Frank's wallet then, examining it in the lights.

"Detective huh?" he wondered. Stitch spoke up next to him.

"I've heard of those before," he cried, trying to snatch it out of the older man's hands. Mando held it out of his reach.

"They're like cops," Stitch said, still jumping for the wallet. Mando laughed. Despite the situation, both Nancy and Frank rolled their eyes.

"Cops; bad news for us normally. Say Stitch, how much do you think we'd get off them?"

Stitch had stopped his efforts of obtaining the wallet, bending over slightly he had his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. He wasn't in very good shape; something that Nancy and Frank could use to their advantage.

"Not sure boss," the young man spit out, straightening up. "Not all that much for the guy," he continued, "but for the girl, we may be able to make a mint. You have that, soft heart factor to take into account."

Nancy felt sick; they were being talked about as if they were a piece of merchandise. It was cruel, uncalled for. She wanted to say something, come up with a clever comeback, but her mind was blank. Frank saved her from saying anything stupid however.

"We're not cops," Frank said firmly. He wasn't willing to explain anymore, he knew that if the criminals learned they worked with cops, things could go bad for them. Frank hoped that the young man's ignorance would prove to be worthy for them at least once tonight. Maybe his ramblings would cause the older man to ignore him, and this topic would be forgotten.

"That's not what these pretty badges say," Mando intervened, shuffling through Nancy's wallet as well. Stitch had finally gotten a hold of Frank's wallet and was busy pulling out the cash that was inside. Safe to say there wasn't much.

"Twenty lousy dollars," Stitch threw a fit, trying to crush the leather in his hand. Mando only shook his head, pulling out more cash from Nancy's wallet. It was more than Frank had, but still not a significant amount.

"Don't worry," Mando told him, handing him the rest of the cash. "We'll be getting more off these two."

He started forward, reaching down to pull Nancy to her feet. Frank had been waiting, had been ready. Without missing a beat he jumped forward, gritting his teeth at the pain that tore through his body. His arms wrapped around the large man's legs, throwing the unsuspecting criminal to the floor.

"Nancy, run!" Frank yelled at her, doing his best to hold him down.

Nancy staggered to her feet, catching Stitch off guard, able to run right past him. She could hear Frank yelling at her to keep going, to not look back, but she did anyway. Mando had already overpowered Frank, pinning him to the floor with one hand, thrashing him with the other.

She had wanted to stop, to go back. But Frank had told her to run. She was their only hope at the moment. If she didn't get any help, she didn't want to think of what would happen.

"Get the girl Stitch!" Mando roared; his face was turning red. He had let up on Frank for a moment, but a moment was all Frank needed as he watched Stitch run by, following Nancy. Weakly he kicked out, catching the young man's feet, tripping him.

Mando cursed, giving Frank another punch for good measure before taking off after the fleeing captive himself. Frank had barely begun to push himself up when he was attacked again, by the smaller man. He wasn't as strong as Mando had been, but Frank was running out steam. What he had done already had been too much.

Unlike Mando, Stitch did little damage, the two mainly struggled. Frank, his body wracked with pain, was barely conscious that his hands were being held together; he didn't hear the zipping sound, didn't feel the thing plastic cut into his wrists. After a few precise kicks to his ribcage, the young man pulled away from the wheezing detective, to help his partner. Frank was left alone.

***

Nancy had managed to make it outside. The cool night air hit her in full force; only then did she really understand how muggy it had been inside the store. She came to a stop, looking around, trying to figure out where to go. It had been a mistake. Someone grabbed her from behind.

Nancy managed a scream before he covered her mouth, bending her head back so that it came to rest on his shoulder. His breath was rancid, and she winced at the pressure he was forcing on her.

"That wasn't a smart move," he warned her. "Now, be a good little girl, and come back inside."

She ignored him, trying to slip free but his grip only tightened. "We could always kill your boyfriend off," he said simply, finally winning the battle. Defeated, Nancy allowed herself to be led back inside.

Her legs were left free, but her hands were rebound, this time with a plastic zip tag, the same kind used to keep cords together. Nancy winced as the plastic cut into her hands, before raising her head to find Frank. She bit her lip, trying not to make a sound as the two criminals conversed.

Frank was barely conscious, if he was at all. He had been beaten roughly, and was bleeding again, this time from his nose and mouth. She watched him, his heavy, inconsistent breathing, willing him to open his eyes. She didn't want to risk saying anything, didn't want to risk causing Frank anymore pain.

"We need to move, now," she could hear Mando saying, "The sooner the better, get the money into bags." He walked around the counter, grasping a gun in his hand, one that Nancy hadn't seen earlier.

Walking up to her, he cocked the gun, holding it level with her head. Nancy swallowed, closing her eyes. So this was how it was to end.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry about all the cliffies :) They're sorta my specialty, but hopefully you won't think this one is so bad...maybe. Thanks for reading and reviewing guys! Your comments make my day!

* * *

Con was working with Joe and Tony; he had tried calling Nancy back several times, Frank as well, but earned no answer from either of them. He was worried now. No one had seen them around the lab, no one had heard any reasoning for them being late. He had half hoped that Frank had somehow conned Nancy into a dinner before their shift started, and they had only lost track of time.

It was an odd feeling. The thought of Frank with Nancy, on a possible date, bothered him. He didn't know why, it shouldn't concern him. But it did. So he had occupied himself. Done something to keep his thoughts from straying to the unthinkable. He had a rancid taste in his mouth, little did he know it was the same taste both Joe and Tony had in their mouths as well.

The trio had combed the car over twice, every last part. They had only turned up a few scare fibers, ones that they were certain already were accounted for. They had nothing new. This was where Chief Collig found them.

They could tell by the look on his face that he had news, news he didn't want to share, but had to. He leaned on the frame of the doorway for a moment, taking in a breath, wondering how to start.

"We received a call, there were reports of screams, coming from near a small convenience store, five blocks from here. Report stated lights were still on even though the place closed at eight, and there were two cars out front, one belonging to the owner, and the other," he paused, drawing in another breath. "The other matches Nancy's car."

***

Nancy was expecting the gun, the deafening noise, the bullet and the blood; she had seen enough crime scenes to know what happened after the trigger was pulled. What she wasn't expecting was the hand in her hair, jerking her to her feet.

Grimacing she staggered upright, the gun still pressed against her head. She swayed slightly on her feet, but behind her, Mando made certain that she didn't fall.

"Time to go for a ride," he told her, laughing in her ear. The warmth of his breath made her shiver, as he began leading her outside.

Nancy could hear Stitch pulling Frank, dragging him. She doubted Frank had any strength left to stand, and it was clear that Stitch wasn't strong enough to keep him on his feet, as Mando was doing to her. The night air was just a shocking again, like walking out of a sauna into an ice storm. Nancy inhaled deeply through her nose, a hand pressed against her mouth kept her from crying out again. When she saw their destination, she began to struggle, trying to pull free as Mando shoved her roughly inside the already open trunk.

Before she could do anything, Frank was shoved practically on top of her, the door slamming right after, casting the two into darkness. Nancy slowly pushed herself against the far wall, allowing Frank to have more room.

Her eyes searched out for anything, trying to guide her hands in hope of anything useful. Where was her kit? She knew Frank's was at the station, he had left it there since his car had been in the auto shop. But hers was gone. The robbers must have taken it out while snooping through the vehicle earlier. That left them with nothing.

Under them, the car sputtered to life, throwing both of them against the backside of the trunk as the wheels were spun. Nancy's eyes still searched the darkness in vain. It took a moment to realize that the shaking she felt was not from the road beneath the vehicle.

"Frank," she stammered, leaning over him a little. She was using her elbows to prop herself up.

When no answer came she called him again, shaking his shoulder gently.

"Frank, you're shaking," she stated plainly, moving her hands up to his forehead.

"G..guess I am, huh," he replied softly, stuttering.

"You're like ice," she continued on as if he had never spoken. Frank wasn't just shaking, he was trembling. His breathing hitched with each breath he took, short broken breaths inward, and an inhuman wheezing as he let them out.

Nancy could only conclude one thing. Frank was going into shock. She started to panic, only to curse herself. She couldn't panic now. Nancy racked her brains, trying to remember what she knew about people who were going into shock, and how to help them. Nothing.

Cursing again, Nancy scooted closer to him, looping her bound arms around him, bringing them down to rest against his chest as she positioned herself so that her head rested on his shoulder.

"W…what are y…you doing?" Frank stuttered again, struggling to talk and breath at the same time.

"Keeping you warm," Nancy answered, rubbing his bare arms with her hands. She could feel the goose bumps easily.

"Not…cold," he started, but didn't finish.

"Frank," Nancy called to him, moving up rub his forehead gently. She ran her hands through his hair, somewhat surprised at how soft it felt, considering the amount of gel he had to use in order to style it.

"Talk to me Frank, don't fall asleep on me."

"About w…what?" Frank's voice was faint, almost hard to hear, in sharp contrast to his loud irregular breaths.

"Anything," Nancy said quickly, knowing that she had to keep him engaged. "What about the field?" she asked then, knowing that Frank enjoyed the field, and had been working hard at his new position as lead detective. "How do you think you're doing?"

She felt Frank shrug under her, a good sign she figured.

"Okay I g…guess. I…I just want t…to be able to do some…thing right…for once," he wheezed, still shaking against her.

Nancy went back to rubbing his arms, trying to keep him warm. It frightened her, how cold he was. Almost like he was…no, she couldn't, wouldn't think like that. Swallowing she answered him.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," she told him gently, smiling in spite of herself. "You're still learning. I mean, if you did everything right, I think you'd scare Con out of Bayport."

Frank laughed softly, but became solemn again, "Yeah…but n…not everything…just…somethings. L…look at you…y…you never mess up. You're perfect."

"I'm far from perfect," she smiled softly, "though I wouldn't mind being so."

"Name the l…last time you messed…up," Frank challenged her.

"Okay, when I blew up at George, then at Collig, after blowing up in front of the suspect. It was worse then, because I knew it was wrong."

Frank laughed again, "T…that wasn't…a mess…that was sweet."

"Yeah," Nancy laughed, nudging him, "your definition of sweet is also Ezra Collig's term for pink slip." She was still laughing as she laid her head on top of his, closing her eyes.

"Your hair smells sweet," Nancy remarked before she realized what she was saying. She felt herself blush soon afterwards.

"Baby shampoo," Frank muttered, sighing under her.

"You use baby shampoo?" Nancy asked, opening her eyes.

"Yeah…" he started, "works nice…doesn't sting y…your eyes."

"Well, you're not supposed to put shampoo in your eyes," Nancy taunted him, waiting for a response. None came.

"Frank?" she asked, lifting her head up. "Frank, don't sleep, stay with me." Still no response came. "Frank?" His breathing had eased, and she knew that he had passed out, his body unable to keep up with his injuries.

Laying her head back down on his, she drew him into a gently, yet secure hold as tears began pressing against her closed eyes. Below, she could feel the car change direction again, and she could only wonder where they were being taken too now, and if Frank would even be with her still when they arrived.


	6. Chapter 6

The lights were still on when they arrived. Cop cars and an ambulances surrounded the parking lot, their lights were still flashing; near the door Collig stood, talking quietly with an officer. It was now four in the morning, the night shift was to end in only a few hours, George Fayne had come in early, as soon as she had gotten the call. Joe and Tony, who were now almost done with their second shift straight, were also there, unwilling to leave now.

They met her with a nod, nothing more as the trio made their way up to the Chief. Con Riley had already gone inside the store, arriving at the scene with Collig, who had already cleared the area. It was an eerie feeling, they had been told nothing more at the time. Now they were fearing the worst.

"One DB," Collig told them softly, "Marina Hiro, Chinese American, early twenties. Single gunshot wound to the back of the head. She was the owner of the store, the vehicle matching Nancy's was gone by the time we got here, as well as Marina's attacker." He pointed at the black top. It was hard to make out, but tread marks could be seen.

"Someone left in a hurry," George remarked, letting the beam of her flashlight rest on the pavement.

"Any sign of Nancy?" Joe asked Collig, resting a hand on the door.

Collig shook his head, "So far, nothing. I haven't been able to locate her or Frank, so we're assuming that they were together."

Joe nodded, rubbing his temples, "Frank's car is in the shop, if anyone gave him a ride it was Nancy. Shifts start at the same time, Frank's on her way."

Collig agreed silently as they made their way inside. George grimaced; there was blood, a lot of it, all over. The floor, the walls, the shelves, the counter…she even risked looking up at the ceiling, relieved to find that there wasn't any blood up there. Even with all the scenes she had processed before, this one was different. This time, it could be one of their own.

"Two different weapon discharges," Riley told them, without looking up. He was kneeling down on the far side of the store, next to a pool of blood.

"Someone was here," he indicated at the blood smear on the freezer door. "And it looks like another person, or possibly the same person, was drug over here, then back to the door."

"I didn't see any blood trails outside," Joe told him, looking over his shoulder, "but I'll go check again." They all nodded, realizing that he couldn't stand to be inside the blood spattered building.

"Nancy or Frank?" George asked Riley quietly, kneeling down beside him.

"There's no proof that they were here tonight," Riley told her, even though it was the same thought on his mind. He had said it a little harsher than intended, trying to convince himself as much as her.

"They were here," Tony spoke for the first time that night. Both George and Riley looked up at him.

"Nancy Drew, Frank Hardy," he read softly, turning the wallets over in his hands. "ID, credit cards, but no cash."

"Smart move, for the assailant at least. He knew that we could trace him through records if he used them," Riley told him, fighting against the icy feeling in his stomach. "More in likely this isn't his first attempt."

"How do you know it's a he, and that there's only one?" George wondered, turning back to him.

"I don't," Riley said solemnly. "Alert Collig, we'll treat this as a hostage situation, and we need to find the surveillance footage. No one works on anything else, do I make myself clear?"

He hadn't any need to ask. The others were unable to even think of anything else, and so they nodded without a word.

"Let's process," Tony said, opening his kit.

***

Nancy wasn't sure how long they had been in there; the car never ceased its steady humming as it rolled over the road. You never really realized how rough the road was under you until you went over it while in the trunk. Nancy was powerless to do anything as Frank's body trembled throughout the night, his temperature shot from icy cold to a sweaty fever in only a few hours. His breathing was ragged; at times it seemed like he was panting.

Nancy continued to talk to him quietly, even though he couldn't hear her. It made her feel better; made her feel as though she was helping him in some way. During that time an uneasy weariness came to settle over her. Head pounding, and muscles aching, she closed her eyes, trying to stave off the unwanted feeling.

The lurching of the car brought her back to her sense. She cursed herself in one long sentence, lifting herself up to glance at Frank in the dim light.

It had to be day now, it was warmer in the trunk now, and the temperature was steadily rising. Deep black and blue bruises marred his face, dried blood clung around his nose and lips, the cut down his face had become swollen. She hadn't meant to fall asleep.

Placing her hands against his forehead, she let out a sigh of relief, noting that he was much cooler now, still running warm, but nothing like earlier. His trembling had subsided, but a lone shiver would still pass through his body every now and then. He was doing much better.

Smoothing his hair, Nancy called his name softly, hoping for an answer. "Frank?"

"Yeah?" he answered softly after a short period of silence, earning a smile from her.

She let out a sigh, laying her head back down, "Just making sure you're still here," she said softly.

Frank laughed a little, "I'm not going anywhere…at least not with the kung fu grip…you have on me."

Nancy blushed, laughing some as she let up on him. "Sorry," she apologized, "you kind of scared me."

"It's okay," his breathing was still heavy, but his talking was much smoother now than it was earlier. "Can't wait to tell Joe…I actually got you to sleep with me."

Nancy snorted, nudging him in the back with her knee, "Dream on lab rat," she told him, but was smiling, glad that he was sounding much like himself.

"I've officially worn that name out," he protested.

"Fine, then I'll just call you field mouse," she answered, before he was unable to say anything else.

Frank's laughter turned into a coughing fit, worrying Nancy. It only lasted a moment, but it was a deep, painful cough, she could tell as he laid his head down with a sigh.

"Frank?" she asked, raising her head up some.

"Hurts," he told her, hoping that would explain enough, but after a moment of silence he continued. "It hurts to breath."

"I think you might have some broken ribs," she told him. It would actually surprise her if he didn't have any; after the way Mando had beaten him, she was surprised Frank was even still alive.

"Any idea…where we are?"

Nancy shook her head, "Besides in my trunk, not really. I don't think they've stopped at all."

"Means we could be anywhere," Frank muttered, fighting off a yawn.

"Get some sleep," Nancy coaxed him, "while you can anyways. I'll wake you if anything happens."

"And let you have…all the fun?" Frank asked, shaking his head. "Don't think so."

"You need your rest," she pleaded, feeling his forehead once again.

Frank pulled away a little, "I'm a big boy," he reassured her, "I'll be fine."

"Frank," she started again, but was stopped as the car came to a stop. The engine was shut off, and after a moment, the hollow sound of doors opening and closing could be heard. Nancy felt Frank entwine his hand in hers, giving them a slight squeeze. Nancy squeezed back.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks so much for your reviews guys! This is a pretty tame chapter, but you might be angry with the next ;) Keep reading and reviewing!

* * *

George rewound the segment back, hitting the play button for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. It was now near six, and she had been reviewing the surveillance footage continuously since a little after four thirty. Shaking her head, she bit her lip as she watched it one more time.

"Show me what you have," Con Riley's voice startled her, and George found herself quickly drying her eyes off, glad that her hair was hiding her face somewhat.

"You okay?" Riley asked suddenly, watching her.

"Yeah," George said, smiling sadly. _I always enjoy watching my friends get pounded to a pulp, _she added silently. "Okay," she stated, backing up the footage again. "Five after eight, Nancy and Frank pull up, enter the store. Seems like our owner tried to get them to leave, but knowing Nancy, she's persistent."

Riley nodded, _perhaps a little too persistent_. "It would have been best if she and Frank just left," he stated, folding his arms.

George nodded in agreement. "You sure you want to watch this?" she asked him, pausing the tape. "It's not pretty."

"That's why I'm here," Riley told her gently, nodding for her to continue. She started the video once again.

"At seven after, two men arrive, masked, clothed in black. No car visible from the outside camera; must have walked, taken a taxi or a bus. Frank walks around the corner…" she didn't have to finish, the footage said enough.

Riley said nothing as his blood boiled, as he watched the two men thrash both Frank and Nancy throughout the video. He felt sickened, and was somewhat glad that the footage was only visual, and not audio as well.

His thoughts were interrupted as Joe came into the room. "You need to see this," he told Riley, nodding to George as well as she paused the video.

Riley shook his head. "Not now," he didn't want to leave, he felt nauseous, and he wanted to see if they could get a face off the surveillance.

"You are going to want to see this," Joe persisted, an edge of anger in his voice.

Riley frowned as he followed Joe out of the room. He stopped, and turned to George before leaving. "See if you can find a face for our boys," he told her, before hurrying to catch up with Joe.

"This just started broadcasting," Joe warned him, flipping on the screen. The news was on, the red line at the bottom read 'Breaking News' and a young blonde women was just beginning to announce.

"Police are on the lookout for two suspects who are believed to be holding two detectives hostage. Frank Hardy and Nancy Drew never made it to the crime lab for their shift, and were believed to be caught in a small store robbery. So far, police have no leads."

"How did they get this information?" Riley asked him, and Joe only shrugged.

"Told you that you'd want to see it," he said with a heavy sigh, turning of the screen.

***

The air was dry, a burning sensation had settled deep in the back of his throat. If breathing wasn't hard enough, trying to swallow was worse. Half the time if felt like he couldn't even breathe; it was as if he had swallowed a bubble, that refused to pop, and the constant coughing wasn't helping either.

Frank had regained some of his strength, not much, but enough that he could move under his own power. Still, Nancy tried her best to stay right by his side, offering up an awkward shoulder when she could. Mando and Stitch kept a close eye on them, keeping the pair in between them, with Stitch leading the gang up a rocky hillside.

Soon after stopping, Mando had drug the pair from the trunk. They were quite literally in the middle of nowhere, Nancy could see no real pavement in either direction, or sign of life, but then again it wasn't like she was given much time to look either. Soon after, Mando had begun to push her up the hillside, trying to keep both her and Frank apart. After holding her ground some, he finally let her walk beside a feeble Frank, offering him help only when he would take it.

The climb was slowly wearing him out, Nancy was surprised that he had lasted this long. They were nearing the top when Frank stumbled, and Nancy caught him the best she could, only resulting in the both falling to their knees. Grumbling Mando grabbed Nancy by the arm, yanking her up, following suit with Frank as well.

"This is taking too long," he yelled ahead to Stitch.

"We're nearly there," the younger man yelled back, "just around the bend there," he pointed out to the rocky formation.

Frank heaved inwardly as he stumbled forward once again. He wasn't certain if he could make that distance, but Mando would see him through, Frank was quite sure of that. The pair had been told nothing, only threatened, as they were pushed along the rocky path.

Finally, Frank and Nancy could see their destination. An old broken down house, nearly invisible from the country road they had left, sheltered by the high hills. It looked as if no one had lived there for years.

Fear was beginning to consume Nancy. Slowly, little by little. She had a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach, that their fates would be decided once reaching the house. She shook her head. Why kill them way out here? If they wanted them dead, wouldn't it have been easier and less painful to finish them off at the store? They had talked about ransoming, the one thing with that however, is the victim hardly ever came out alive. They were dead before the ransom was even made. Was this what was to become of them? Just another case, another day's work?

"Home sweet home," Stitch laughed, kicking the door open.

Frank wasn't willing to walk in on his own, and seeing the hesitation, Mando grabbed him roughly behind the neck, shoving him forward. Frank grimaced at the pain, trying to pull free, with little success, as Nancy was hustled in behind him with the threat of a gun, pointed to the back of her head.

Shoving Frank to his knees, Mando picked up a long piece of chain that was covered in dust, wrapping it around his wrists several times before locking it secure. Turning to his left, he could see Nancy receiving the same treatment.

"That'll hold them," Mando nodded at Stitch who finished tying Nancy up.

"Feel free to wander as far as those chains will let you," Mando continued, laughing some as if it were a game. "But if you get too noisy, gags always work nicely."

Neither of them said anything as Mando and Stitch turned to leave. Only when they were gone did Nancy get to her feet, testing the lock, finding that it wasn't coming off anytime soon. The chain itself wasn't very long, not as long as Frank's was anyways.

Turning to watch him, she was frightened to see him still on his knees, bent over in the same position Mando had him in when locking him up. He was breathing heavily, and his body was starting to shake again. Nancy could tell that he was concentrating; his eyes were closed, and his face was tense.

Moving over to him, she placed her hands on his shoulder as she sat down on the dusty floor. Frank barely opened an eye, turning away even as he did so.

"You okay?" Nancy asked quietly, knowing that it was indeed a ridiculous question to even be asking. Frank had been shot, beaten and drug halfway across a forest, and she was asking if he was okay. But the same thought occurred in her mind as well. Was she okay? She certainly had seen better times than this, but she felt well enough at the moment, with an exception of the heavy weight in her stomach, and ever growing worry that her companion wouldn't last much longer.

Frank nodded in answer, lifting his head up some, "Throat's sore," he managed to say, giving her a soft grin. That was the least of his worries though. The gunshot wound, he could tell, had ripped open again. He could feel a small, yet definite blood trail making its way down his side again. He wasn't sure how much blood he had lost already, but he was certain he didn't have room to spare.

Nancy smiled back at him, even though she could tell he was in a great deal of pain. Ever so gently she began rubbing his shoulder, moving down to his back, watching him closely, as if studying him.

Frank made no move or comment as she did so, listening to the unnerving rattle the chain made as she moved her hands in short semi-circles. With a sigh he met her eyes again, the grin now gone. "So," he rasped quietly, "is this where it ends?"

Nancy stopped her motions for a moment, watching him with a saddened expression. "I don't know," she told him softly. "I want to say we'll get out this somehow, part of me wants to believe that still, but honestly…I don't know anymore."

Frank nodded silently, disappointment masking his face. He had wanted to hear different, even if he doubted that they would escape, he still wanted to hear her say that they would. He was caught off guard when Nancy fingered his chin, leaning forward to kiss him lightly on the lips. He blinked as she pulled away, unsure of what to say or do.

Nancy only smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes. Frank watched her for a moment, before laying his head on top of hers, looping his arms around her chest. "We'll get out of here," he told her, more confident now.

"It's okay," she muttered, her words muddled by his shirt. "I don't mind going like this."

Frank laughed softly, yawning as he leaned against the wall behind them, bringing Nancy with him. "We will get out of here."


	8. Chapter 8

Chromde: Your reviews make me laugh, thanks. :)

frankette: Actually I agree with you. I suppose I was focusing so much on Frank and Nancy that my Joe character slipped. I understand what you mean, I don't care for this Joe I am writing. Humph. Thanks for pointing it out to me. Let me know if he's any better in this chapter, okay?

A/N: Ok. Here's the next chapter. Heh heh. No threats to my well being until you read the rest of the story okay? ;) Runs and hides.

* * *

Kenny's News Station was bustling; reporters ran from one end of the building to the other, newscasters were being prepped for the noon report, and equipment handlers were busy screaming at one another from across the large hallways, and rooms, frantically trying to set up before they aired.

Lieutenant Riley watched all this happen from under his glasses. In one hand he held a report, where he tapped it impatiently against his folded arms, resisting the urge to scowl, and yell at the person closest to him.

"We've been here for ten minutes now," he said, trying to regain his nearly lost composure, "Where is she?"

Joe let out an exasperated sigh, "I don't know, but this place is a mess."

"You could say that again," Riley muttered under his breath, before calling out at a passing security guard. "Sir, we are trying to find Mrs. Cole, can you tell us where we can find her?"

The large man only shrugged, "If you want autographs, come back at a different time, if you want to report a story, check our phone number. We're too busy to take anything in person right now."

"Actually, my name is Conrad Riley, this is Joseph Hardy, we're with the Bayport Police, and we need to speak to Mrs. Cole now, if you don't mind."

The guard nodded, "Why didn't you say anything earlier?" the man asked, unaware that they had done so already. "I'll show you in, this way."

_Finally,_ Riley thought, following the uniformed guard. His patience had clean run out hours ago. The chances of finding Nancy and Frank alive were slimming by the minute; Chief Collig had a full squad out searching for any signs of Nancy's car, or any possible lead to where the two may be. And he was stuck in a news room, waiting to talk to some reporter who wasn't probably going to tell them anything anyways.

The bulky guard knocked on a door before pushing it open, and poking his head in. He talked with someone for a moment before stepping back, and allowing the two to enter.

"Mrs. Cole," Riley nodded as he came in. The blonde woman, no more than thirty years of age, looked up from the small hand mirror she held.

"Police right? What are you here for?"

_So much for courtesy,_ Riley thought. But it was best to cut straight to the point anyways.

"We want to know where you got the report about the two missing detectives," Joe asked pointedly from behind him.

The lady laughed, picking up a pair of tweezers to pluck free some eyebrow hairs. "You're kidding right?"

After a moment of silence, she risked glancing up at them. Seeing that they were serious she set her stuff down. "Look," she stated with a sigh, "If you want to know that kind of stuff, go see my manager, Stanley. He'll tell you."

"It would be easier if you just told us," Riley interjected.

She only sighed again, picking up the mirror again. "I can't do that."

"Why is that?" Joe asked her angrily, coming up to the desk.

The lady slammed her stuff down, causing the two to jump slightly. "Because I don't get the reports," she cursed, leaning back in her chair. "I'm not a reporter, I'm a damn newscaster, the only thing I do in here is read the white print that comes up on that little blue screen over there," she pointed over in the corner. "Stanley is the one who chooses what I read and what I don't read. When the white words come up, that's what I say."

Joe nodded, starting to understand now, but was evidently still annoyed. "Where is Stanley now?"

Mrs. Cole laughed irritably, "At the moment, probably getting drunk off his ass celebrating like he usually does when he gets a big news breaker."

"It would really help," Riley intervened before Joe could say anything. "The report you gave earlier contained more information than we had."

He watched as she raised an eyebrow, looking up at them. "You're kidding? Stanley said he got it from an inside source. I figured you two were trying to alert the town to be on the look out for them."

"Unfortunately, it may have put them in more danger," Joe told her, seething at the woman's audacity.

She shook her head. "I don't get paid enough to do this damn job," she rubbed her head. "Um, he could be anywhere, I really have no idea…" she pulled open her top drawer of her desk, sorting through a few papers. "Here, this may help, I don't know what you people do, or what you use, but…here, just take this."

She handed them a business card, complete with her manager's phone and address. Joe flipped it over, nodding as he examined it. "Thanks for your time," he turned abruptly, eager to get back to the station.

"Look, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. If I had known, I would have refused to read it. I'm sorry."

Con Riley was nearly out of the room, but he stopped at that statement, turning back. "It's okay," he answered, "You had no way of knowing. You were just doing your job."

She nodded, "Then you better get out there and do yours."

Riley nodded in return, closing the door behind him.

***

Frank was awake. In fact, he had never gone to sleep. Nancy however, was fast asleep, and had been so for what seemed like hours. She was resting against his chest, and even though her weight was putting pressure on his already sore torso, Frank made no move to pull away. He had spent most of the time trying to control his labored breathing, trying not to wake her up.

There had been no sign of their kidnappers; Frank wondered dully if they were still around even, or if they had left them here to die. Lifting up his arms, Frank examined the chains through the dim light. He doubted he could break them in his condition; doubted he could even break them when he was one hundred percent.

He set them back down, holding his breath as Nancy shifted under his hold. When he was certain she had not awakened, he let it out. She was not as bad off as he was, that was for certain. But still, she looked horrible. A black eye, a swollen lip…and Frank could see some bruising start just above the line of her shirt. Dried blood matted the top of her head, and he could see a small cut that looked as though it was infected. More in likely she had a concussion…maybe that was why she was so tired.

And all this time she hadn't complained about being in pain. It was amazing. He rested his head against the wall, glancing around the abandoned shack, wondering dimly if this was to be their grave site. His thoughts drifted to the team, the same people he had been friends with practically his whole life, the same people that were family to him.

There was his brother, Joe, the kid in him never really seemed to have left. The quirkiness he carried, and the way he stood up for Frank when anyone tried to challenge him, even though Joe often left him with the most tantalizing of tasks, trying to convince Frank that it was a good learning experience.

George was kind but strict, perhaps more strict than his boss was, but it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. George had chosen odd times to be honest with him, not that he believed she ever lied to him, but there came matters that George came to him and him alone to resolve. That showed extraordinary trust, in his opinion at least.

Tony, his best friend since they were young. He was more of a quiet, withdrawn guy. Frank had wondered what went on in that head of his half the time. He had learned some useful hints from Tony though; he always had his back.

Then there was Con Riley. How could he describe Con? The man certainly made sure his team was secure; watched over. He was a damn good cop and overall, Frank wouldn't choose anyone else to be his boss. No, Con did that job just fine. The thought of having someone like Chief Collig as his boss…Frank shivered. One Collig was enough.

"You okay?" Nancy asked suddenly. Frank glanced down at her, surprised to find her eyes still closed.

"Yeah," he nodded, "just thinking about what life would be like if Con was like Collig."

"Frank, we're in enough of a nightmare as it is, don't make it worse," Nancy warned him, opening her eyes.

Frank laughed, "Sorry," he muttered, "sleep well?"

Nancy shrugged, sighing a little. "As well as I could I guess."

Both were startled as the door swung open, leaving them blinking in the bright sunlight. When the door closed again, both Mando and Stitch stood in front of them, watching the pair.

"Any thoughts yet?" Stitch asked, looking up at the taller man.

Mando rubbed his chin, as Frank looked away, trying his hardest not to feel like some specimen under a microscope. After what seemed like an eternity, the older of the two finally spoke.

"The guy will never last that long. He'll only slow us down, waste him now, we'll still get a good enough price off the girl."

Frank felt the fear rise in his chest as Nancy clung onto him tightly. "No," she whispered, bringing her arms over his neck as if hoping to hold him down there with her.

Frank kicked out as Mando came near him, but the older man easily sidestepped it, grabbing Frank's hair and dragging him sideways, trying to shake Nancy off. It only served her to hang on tighter, as Mando grabbed the two by the arms, forcefully yanking the two apart, throwing Nancy against the wall hard. Frank winced at the impact, calling her name as she lay there stunned for a moment.

Frank was fighting fiercely now, trying anything to pull free as Mando undid the chains around his arms. A swift blow to the back of his head dropped Frank to his knees, dazed.

By this time, Nancy was already on her knees, slowly crawling towards Frank, calling his name, but the chain would only allow her to go so far, and she watched sickened as Mando passed a dazed Frank off to Stitch, who in turn half drug and half pushed the young detective out the door.

She was still fighting against her restraints, crying out for them to stop when a series of gun shots silenced her. For the first time ever, Nancy felt as though she was choking, as she heard another shot being fired. Mando only smiled at her, but she paid no heed as her head came to rest on the ground, as the sobs racked her body.

When Stitch came back in, she didn't even look up as he nodded in confirmation that the job was indeed done. She could no longer see, no longer think. Frank was dead…and it was her fault…all her fault.

"Don't worry honey," Mando told her, laughing at her state, "Yours won't be long in coming either."


	9. Chapter 9

whitetigers: Thanks for your review! I can totally understand where you're coming from and I do tend to agree that this story isn't "brother" centric, sorry. This is one of my first stories and I was still getting a feel for it. Thanks for reading though!

A/N: Here it is! Did you really think I'd kill him? :)

* * *

For the life of him, Frank could not remember being more tired, sick, and in pain, then he was at the present moment. He continued on the road in front of him, the same dirt road they had driven in on, he presumed. It was a slow, painful trek; the sun that had been in the middle of the sky when he started had now set behind the hills, leaving only a faint band of light to see by.

Soon, temperatures would drop, the coast was unforgiving. In the city, temperatures would stay warm, bodies and buildings trapping the heat. But out here, the barren wasteland really took its toll, did its damage. He had thought about stopping, finding somewhere to rest, but an ill feeling inside him warned him that if he did so, he wouldn't be getting up again.

That thought alone kept him going. One step after another, his limping stride another injury he had acquired in his treacherous escape attempt. He had never given up, when he had learned they meant to kill him, and take Nancy off to who knew where. Stitch had dragged him outside, throwing him to his knees. As he readied the weapon, Frank kicked the small man's feet out from under him, staggering to his own feet towards the cliff.

Frank knew that he could not out run him, but perhaps he could out roll him. Taking a deep breath he had literally thrown himself down the face of the cliff. His mind screamed at him to tuck and roll, tuck and roll. That's exactly what he did, wincing at each and every rock that tore at him.

He could hear gunfire hitting around him, but effectively missing him. Until the last shot, it hit him in the arm. He was nearly unconscious by the time he came to a stop, his mind still screaming, along with his body as the pain began to consume him.

Frank was somewhat surprised the fall hadn't killed him. He wasn't sure how long he lay there, but finally, he forced himself to his feet, staggering around he found that he was indeed alone.

Moving was hard from that point out. Even the smallest of movements, a turn of his head, a flicker of his fingers, or the forward motion of his legs, sent wave after wave of unimaginable pain. Part of him wondered vaguely how he was even able to still function.

The road, at first, seemed endless, until he spotted a small building in the distance. This is where he was headed. It was getting harder and harder to walk, but he wasn't willing to give up now, not when he had come so far. It was dark by the time he reached it, trying to swallow down the disappointment. It was in the same condition as the shack was…abandoned.

But a little hope still lingered, a pay-phone stood off to the side, as Frank made his way over to it slowly. Leaning against it, he lifted the receiver off the hook with some difficultly, his fingers weren't willing to work all that well, and having his hands tied together did nothing to help. He smiled softly when he heard the constant tone buzzing in his ear. It still worked.

Slowly, he punched in the three numbers he knew that he could use without having to pay, willing himself to stay conscious as he heard the rings. He only needed to stay awake a little longer. Just a little longer, he reminded himself as the call went through.

***

Con Riley removed his sunglasses as he stepped out of the vehicle. It had taken only a few hours to locate the suspects' hideout after Collig had gotten the call from the hospital. By the time Collig had notified him, Frank was already being air-lifted to the ER. They had been told nothing of his condition, and Riley was torn between checking in on Frank, or following Collig to the scene, in hopes that Nancy was still alive.

It hadn't taken him long to decide. Collig made him wait, at least half an hour before following, for safety reasons. It felt like forever to him. He had sped to the scene, unaware of how fast he was really going.

By the time he arrived, the scene looked as if it was already cleared. Riley let out a long sigh of relief as he spotted Nancy sitting on a rock outcropping, a blanket draped over her shoulders. An officer stopped him however, before he could reach her.

"She's in a state of shock," the man told him quietly. "She hasn't said a thing since we pulled her from the house. We have an ambulance on the way. The men fled the scene; we have a force looking for them now."

Riley nodded, making his way towards Nancy once again, this time much slower. He knelt down in front of her, the fear evident in his eyes, but he didn't care. "Nancy," he called to her softly, unsure of whether or not to touch her.

Nancy didn't say anything, just kept staring ahead, mouth open slightly. As Riley reached up to take her hand, she spoke.

"I tried everything," she muttered so quietly Riley wasn't sure if he had even heard her right.

"I didn't mean for it too happen, I'm so sorry," she whispered, locking eyes with him for a moment.

"What are you saying Nancy?" Riley asked, grasping her hand gently. For a moment she tried to pull away, but relaxed soon after.

"They killed him, and I couldn't do anything. It's my fault he's dead," she said again, tears starting to fall down her face.

"Who?" he encouraged her softly, even though he had an idea whom she was speaking of.

She had started to cry; turning her head away from him she buried her face in her hands. It was the first time Riley had seen the welts around her wrists, where the plastic ties had cut into her skin.

For a moment he was unsure what to do; then ever so slowly he brought her into his embrace. She didn't resist this time; only let him hold her as she continued to cry.

"Who Nancy?" Riley asked again, rubbing her back smoothly.

"Frank," she managed after a moment, "they killed him, they killed Frank."

"Nancy," Riley stopped her before she could carry on. "Frank's not dead; he's already at the hospital."

He had hoped it would calm her some, but she only shook her head. "Frank is dead, I saw it, they killed him."

"Did you?" Riley asked her, "did you see them kill him?"

Nancy opened her mouth to respond, but ended up saying nothing. Finally she just shook her head. "They said he was…"

"Come," Riley helped her to her feet, "You need to get to the hospital."

"We have to find Frank first," Nancy told him, holding back some.

"Frank's at the hospital," Riley said, watching her closely.

"We can't leave him out here," she started again, but Riley stopped her.

"We'll find him," he told her. It was obvious she wasn't thinking clearly. "You need to rest though." He held out his hand again, smiling this time when she finally took it after a moment.

***

Joe and Tony were nearly out the door when George caught them. There had nearly been a stampede when Collig called in, saying that Frank had been found. Riley had left almost immediately after the Chief, they were able to locate the hideout from the partial directions Frank was able to give them.

Collig had sent a helicopter out to get him, after tracing the call back to an old single pump gas station that was no longer in use. Joe had wanted to leave right then, but Collig had told him to stay put, he probably wouldn't be able to see Frank anyways. So reluctantly he had stayed behind with Tony.

George came up to them in a hurry, knowing they were leaving to check in on Frank at the hospital. It had been wonderful news to hear, she could only hope the best for Nancy now. "You know that Stanley our news lady talked about?" she asked them.

After a nod she continued, "He's our kidnapper," she told them, handing over the papers.

One was a close up of the two robbers; the other was a criminal background record for Stanley Marden.

"Petty theft, fraud, and black market," Tony read of his history. "Also known as Stitch."

He glanced back up at her. "So you're telling me he is the one who called the story in?"

George shrugged, taking the papers back. "If you want to find all the big stories first, than you create them, I wasn't able to get a hit off his partner though."

"Bastards," Joe growled, his fists clenching. Tony grabbed the picture from his hands before he crumpled it too much.

"Send out alerts," Tony told her.

"Already have," she nodded at them, "Get going, give me a call when you find anything out."

"Will do," Tony said as he followed Joe out to the parking lot. The drive there was long and eerie, neither one spoke as they hurried inside on arrival.

Joe took the lead as they approached the receptionist desk. "We're looking for a Frank Hardy," he told her quickly. "He should have come in not too long ago."

The lady nodded, flipping through some papers, unaware of their impatience. She continued to search through each record, taking her time as Joe drummed his fingers on the counter top.

"I'm trying to read these," she said, glaring up at him.

He stopped, pulling back and crossing his arms. One look at Tony told him that the Italian was also irritated. Finally the lady spoke up, pulling out a paper.

"Mr. Hardy, air lifted here. He's in surgery. You can wait or come back later."

"We'll wait," Joe spoke up.

The lady nodded, pointing them in the right direction. Taking a seat in the chairs provided, Joe let out a sigh as he clasped his hands. Waiting was always the hardest part. They weren't there long when a nurse met up with them.

"You're here for Mr. Hardy right?"

They both nodded expectantly. "Any news on him yet?" Joe asked anxiously.

"We won't know until he gets out of surgery," she told him with a soft smile. "Are you family?"

"I'm his brother," Joe managed. She looked at Tony, "He's a good friend," Joe told her.

The nurse nodded, offering up a clip board, that Joe took. "I need these forms filled out for him, do the best you can, and turn them into the front desk when you finish."

Joe flipped through the pages, feeling queasy as he came to the consent forms, ones that required information about if the patient didn't survive surgery. Joe quickly closed the packet, swallowing, looking up to find Tony watching him.

"He will make it," Tony told him. "Nancy too, we just have to wait."

"Waiting is the hardest part," Joe told him softly.


	10. Chapter 10

It was one of the longest nights Joe could ever remember. The silence was eerie, neither him nor Tony had spoken since finishing the forms. Joe had skipped the last section on purpose, refusing to fill them out until they heard more.

Sometime during that hour Riley had arrived, sitting down next to them. "How's Nancy?" Tony asked softly when he did.

"Exhausted," Riley had replied. "She was in shock, has a minor concussion, bruising, but they said she should be able to go home by tomorrow afternoon. Any word on Frank?"

Joe shook his head, "Nothing, nothing at all."

As if on cue, the next they knew the nurse was greeting them again. "Mr. Hardy is out of surgery now, he's resting, but I don't see why you can't visit him. He's pretty drugged, so he more than likely won't understand much."

Riley nodded, "Injuries? We need to take them down; this is still an open crime investigation."

The nurse nodded, "I'll get you the report, but just a quick overview; Concussion, gunshot wounds to the abdomen and right arm, bruising of the rib cage and collar bone, mainly on the left side, a couple cracked ribs, some internal bruising, stitching to the cheekbone; he turned his ankle pretty good, we thought it was broken by the way it looked, but all bones look intact, we'll know better when the swelling goes down…other than that just various bruising and lacerations. It's going to take a while for him to recover; he's going to be pretty sore for some time. That's only physically though."

Riley nodded, sucking in a deep breath. As long as the pair could pull through physically, he had confidence that emotionally and mentally they would be okay. At least that's what he had convinced himself.

The young nurse smiled, indicating to the door. As the three stood and made their way towards the room, a strange feeling came over Riley. Suddenly he didn't want to go in that room. He wanted to see Frank, make sure the young man was okay, but he wasn't able to even make a move towards the open door.

"Um, you go on ahead, I've got to get back to the lab and help George," he told Joe and Tony quickly. "If anything happens, you know how to reach me."

He left shortly after, giving the two little time to react. Riley had waited all night as they had, and now he was leaving, just like that. Tony patted Joe on the shoulder.

"Come on man; let's go see how he's doing."

Joe nodded, following him inside. The doctor was finishing a few things, but nodded to them as they walked by. Both of them had taken in account what the nurse had said, had prepared for the worse, but seeing Frank there, in his condition, was still unnerving.

Frank had his eyes open, though barely, watching them. He managed to smile some, but it was clear he was in pain. The medication hadn't started to work quite yet, and the drugs left over from surgery were starting to wear off.

"So," Joe finally broke the silence, taking a seat next to the bed. "What's all this about being late? I missed my game you know." He told him, trying to lighten the mood.

Frank laughed some, wincing as he did so, "Doesn't matter," he whispered, "your team sucks anyways."

Joe laughed too, starting to deny it, but decided to let it go. "You gave us quite a scare," he told him instead.

"Yeah?" Frank asked, "gave myself quite a scare too…Nancy?"

"She's doing okay," Tony told him, smiling sadly. "They say she can be out by tomorrow."

"What about me? When do I…get to break out of this joint?"

"Not for a while," Joe answered, watching as Frank closed his eyes, nodding in response.

"You get some rest," Tony intervened, "We'll come see you when you feel better."

Frank barely nodded as they stood. They had waited all night to see him, and had spent less than a minute talking with him. Joe was still worried, despite what the doctors had said. On their way out, they stopped by to check in on Nancy; she too was asleep.

She looked far better than Frank did, but it was still hard for the two to see her like that. She had an IV hooked up to her, in the same fashion as Frank; the two had been slightly dehydrated after being brought in.

Tony fumbled for his pager as it went off, showing it to Joe as well. Visiting time was over; they needed to get back to the lab.

***

As said, Nancy was released the next day from the hospital. Not wanting to be alone, she stayed with George until she felt well enough to return to her own place. Strict doctor's orders kept her from work for a week, in that time she spent most of it visiting Frank.

They had kept him in the hospital for two weeks, before relinquishing him. Frank had been glad to get out, but like Nancy, had been banned from the station for at least a week. He was still on strong medication for the pain as he slowly healed from all the bruising he had received.

Still, the two showed up at the station often, spending most of the time in the break room, talking quietly. Whenever anyone else came in the room, they stopped their conversation, smiling softly, waiting until the other person had left. No one knew quite what they talked about, but it wasn't hard to guess.

George, Joe and Tony continued to work on the investigation searching for the two suspects that had taken them hostage, and were outraged when they were unable to find any leads. The two, they assumed had fled on foot, were found no where, until it was finally concluded that they perished in the mountains somewhere. They sent a recovery team to search the area for weeks afterwards, but finally, due to budget costs, had to call it off.

Con Riley took charge of the crime scene itself, slowly piecing together the story that happened. He had been able to follow the blood trail that Frank had left behind, shaking his head in wonder at what he had done. The cliff Frank had fallen down was nearly fifty feet high; how anyone in Frank's condition could have survived that was beyond him. What was even more incredible was that after he had fallen, the young man had picked himself up, and staggered near ten miles to the old gas station. Sometimes luck ran with you, he thought, for the old building was scheduled to be torn down in only a few months. After that, the next sign of any town was over thirty miles away…a distance that Riley was sure that Frank wouldn't have been able to make.

At any rate, there had been a noticeable change in both Nancy and Frank, something that wasn't uncommon for what they had gone through. Still neither one would talk about what had happened, and would pretend that nothing was wrong.

When the pair came back to work, Riley had confined them to the lab; not wanting them back out in field, still worried about their emotional state. They worked with little complaint, at first anyways, but it was clear that their tempers were rising after only a few weeks. It was a short time after this that Riley called them into his office.

"I talked to your doctors," he told them, studying their expressions as he talked. "They recommended therapeutic help."

"We're not crazy," Frank told him, resting his head against his hand.

"I didn't say you were," Riley cut him off, "Neither did they. Therapy is not uncommon in your state. You'll probably hate me more for saying this, but I think it will help, for both of you. After what you went through, to experience no emotional or mental effects is quite rare."

Nancy hadn't said anything, just sat in the chair, her arms folded; she wasn't even looking at him.

"They recommended a real good doctor, if you two go see him, you would be able to get out in the field sooner."

"Okay," Nancy finally piped up. "We'll go see him."

Frank turned to her, incredulous, "What? Don't I get a say in this too?"

"No," Nancy said flatly, "We'll go," she glanced at him, a silent look passing between them, something Riley didn't understand. He had heard rumors that the pair had been spending more time together, but wasn't sure if it was true.

"Fine, we'll go then. When?"

"As soon as you want," Riley handed him the number. Riley watched the pair as they left the office. He shook his head to himself, wondering if the Nancy and Frank he knew would ever come back.

"They will," he told himself, "They made it this far, they'll make it all the way."

**The End**

**

* * *

**

A/N: Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews! I appreciated them all! See y'all in the sequel!

-SI


End file.
